


A.L.L

by charmed_seconds



Series: A.L.L Series [1]
Category: Charmed
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Severe Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed_seconds/pseuds/charmed_seconds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the short span of two weeks and one diagnosis, the Halliwell family is turned upside down and worries that one of their loved ones isn't going to see their next birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Chris yawned as he trudged through the door, his older brother already in the kitchen attacking their mother's fresh baked chocolate chips cookies. Faintly, he could hear Wyatt recant tales of what happened today in school. Chris couldn't help but roll his eyes, sometimes his brother acted more like a seven-year-old than the seventeen-year-old that he was.

With a sigh and another yawn, Chris began his journey up the stairs; his heart set on his bed.

"Hi Peanut,"

Chris turned halfway up the stairs and sent a wary smile at his mother, "Hey mom."

Piper frowned at her son's tired expression. It seemed lately that no matter how much her son slept, he could never get enough. "You want some cookies? I made you some peanut butter ones."

Chris grimaced. Cookies sounded delicious but his bed sounded so much better, "I think I'm just gonna take a nap,"

Piper's frown deepened, "Are you feeling alright Peanut?"

Chris shrugged. Honestly, he hasn't felt this rundown ever in his life. He as sick and tired of take a nap as soon as he got home from school only to be right back where he was energy wise by time dinner was done and then he woke up in the morning feeling as if he hasn't slept. "Probably just a bug or something," he answered with a small shrug.

Piper looked at her son, unsure if she should believe him or not. "Maybe I should make an appointment."

Chris shook his head, "Nah, I'm fine Mom. Just a bit tired."

Piper sighed, "Alright, I'll save a few cookies for you before your brother eats them all. I'll wake you up for dinner."

"Thanks," Chris mumbled as he started back up the stairs and headed straight to his bed.

* * *

Chris pushed his roast beef around his plate, a frown on his lips as he looked at the food in front of him in slight disgust. It was that it didn't taste good, anything prepared by his mother was just short of decadence, but his appetite barely let him eat three bites, let alone the one-fourth he forced himself to eat.

He sighed softly as he continued to play with his food in a weak attempt to look like he was eating. However, the mere scent of dinner was making his stomach churn. "May I be excused?" he asked.

Piper glanced over at her youngest, her eldest falling silent halfway through a sentence, "You've hardly eaten," she pointed out with a small frown. Another thing that was becoming a ritual, her son's lack of an appetite. She thought that a fifteen-year-old boy would be eating food faster than she could prepare it; Wyatt was like that when he hit that age, but Chris grimaced at the aspect of food nowadays.

"Not hungry," came the mumbled response.

Piper sent a worried glance at her husband, the blond man looking at Chris with worry in his eyes. "Are you sure buddy? You haven't been eating much lately." Leo gently said.

Chris shrugged. "Can I just go upstairs?"

Leo frowned but nodded. He watched as his youngest son trudged up the stairs, the young teenager yawning halfway up.

"He just took a nap," Wyatt muttered.

Piper sighed, "Something is wrong with him,"

"He might not be sleeping well," Leo reassured, "Or he might have that bug that Payton had a few days ago."

"This has been going on for nearly a week and half Leo," Piper hissed.

Leo exhaled and ran a hand through his graying hair, "If it doesn't get better in a week, we'll take him to the doctors, alright?"

Piper nodded sadly as she poked at her food, "I just want to know what's wrong with him."

"Do you think it could be something serious Dad?" Wyatt asked, his eyes on the once-upon doctor.

Leo shrugged, "It could be something like insomnia, or something a bit worse like anemia but those things are easily treatable."

Wyatt nodded but looked back at his food with a heavy frown, "Hopefully it's just a bug,"

"Hopefully," Piper whispered, her gaze looking at the stairs with longing, wishing that her son would bounce down them with a smile on his face and with energy, like he used to do.

* * *

He opened the front door with a small smile. He was finally home and he could finally go take his daily nap. Yawning, Chris dropped his backpack on the ground beside the door, leaving it open for Wyatt who was getting his books from the car.

"You better save some cookies for me!" he heard his older brother yell from outside.

Chris rolled his eyes as he padded his way deeper into the house. He was going straight to his room, he would have the cookies another time. Suddenly, a sense of vertigo hit him making him grab onto the railing of the stairs. He thankfully hasn't set foot on them. Chris squeezed his eyes shut and willed the dizziness to go away.

Then, the light-headedness hit which made his legs shake. "Chris?" he faintly heard his brother say, "Chris!" this time it was slightly louder but muffled as if he was submerged in water. Then, nothing.

* * *

Groaning, Chris turned his head from the cold, wet sensation on his forehead. He forced his eyes opened, his vision blurry. "Wha?"

"He's awake," he heard his mother announce, "God, Peanut, you scared the hell out of us."

"What happened?" Chris murmured, his vision sharpening to see that he was on the couch in the living room. His mother was beside him, a soaked washcloth in her hand. Behind her were his father and brother, two pairs of bluish-green eyes looking at him in worry.

"You passed out," Piper explained, "I heard Wyatt scream and then found you on the floor." She smoothed back his bangs, "You're running a bit of a temperature, why didn't you tell us that you felt sick."

Chris looked at her, "Mom, I've been sick for the past two weeks,"

Piper softly growled under her breath, "That's it, I'm calling the doctor,"

"Mom,"

"No Christopher, I'm calling him. You just passed out in the foyer! You are going to a doctor mister, and that's final."

Chris opened his mouth to protest, but when he saw his mother's pointed glare, he decided to take the better route and shut his mouth. Settling back into the couch, Chris listened as his mother made an immediate appointment for tomorrow morning and frowned. He hated doctors.

* * *

Seated on the cold table, Chris gently swung his legs back and forth as he waited for his doctor to come in. His mother sat in the chair beside the door, an outdated magazine in her hands, the sound of the flipping pages the only thing that broke the sterile air.

The door eased open and a salt-and-pepper haired man walked in, a soft, comforting smile on his face. "Hello Chris, Piper, how are you today?"

"We're fine Doctor McConnal," Piper replied as she put the magazine back, "Chris has just been feeling under the weather lately, and yesterday he passed out."

The doctor hummed as his hazel eyes scanned over Chris, "Hmm, and how long have you been feeling like this?" he inquired as he took the blood pressure cuff of the rack.

"I've been tired for the past two weeks," answered Chris with a small shrug as the doctor pulled up his sleeve.

The doctor nodded and strapped the cuff tightly around Chris's arm, "And have you been feeling light-headed at all during this time, before passing out?"

"Sometimes, usually right after gym or something."

McConnal frowned as he took Chris's blood pressure, "A little on the low side," he murmured as he marked it down on Chris's chart.

Unwrapping his stethoscope from his neck, the doctor slid it under Chris's t-shirt and listened to the young man's breathing and heart rate. "Normal." He muttered.

Putting the chart down, the doctor began rubbing his fingers into Chris's neck, feeling the glands in his throat. "They're slightly enlarged."

The doctor frowned, "Let's take a blood sample to send off to the lab and then check your joints."

Chris sighed. If there was anything he hated more than doctors it would be needles. Frowning, he extended the arm and looked away as it pierced his skin. It wasn't the pain that drove Chris away from needles; it was just that it was slightly disgusting to know that someone was going to look at his blood under a microscope. Plus, no one really jumps for joy when they're getting their blood drawn for a test.

After setting the vile aside, the Doctor gently bent Chris's knees and elbows. "Do they hurt?"

"Not really," Chris replied, "They just feel stiff."

"And how is your appetite?" asked McConnal, his eyes shifting over to Piper.

"Hardly there," Piper said, "I mean, when Wyatt was his age, I could barely keep enough food in the house."

"Alright, I'm going to send the blood out for a test, it should be back soon." The Doctor stated, "I don't think it's anything serious, perhaps a case of anemia, but that can be quickly fixed with a change of diet and some iron vitamins." He said reassuringly, "I'll call when the results are in."

* * *

By time the second week was up, Piper was a nervous wreck. Blood tests in the back usually haven't taken this long. Then, finally one afternoon the call came.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Halliwell?"

"Yes, this is her."

"Hi, this Doctor McConnal, Chris's blood results came in,"

"…And?" Piper reluctantly asked, a heavy sense of dread filling her stomach.

"Can you come down to the office with your husband and Chris, we have some things to discuss."

Piper gulped as she looked at her baby sleeping on the couch, "Can Wyatt come as well?"

"Yes,"

"Alright, we're on our way."

Fifteen minutes later, Piper and Leo were in the cramped office of the family doctor, his hazel eyes grave and sympatric as he gestured to the two seats in front of his desk. Slowly, he sat down and looked at the file in his hand. "Now, when we sent Chris's blood test in, we were expecting to get back an anemia diagnosis, and we did."

"Then, what's the problem then?" Leo asked, "Is the anemia severe?"

The doctor shook his head, "No, its what was causing the anemia that caused me to ask to speak with you separately before we break the news to Chris." The doctor warily sighed, "When the hematologist looked at the sample of blood over, he found an unusual amount of white blood cells clustered within. He decided to do a smear and consulted with a pathologist and they've came down to an diagnosis that I sadly have to agree with."

"What is it?" Piper whispered.

"Chris has what is known as ALL, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia."

Piper shook her head, "No, no. My son can't have cancer," she turned to look at Leo, "He can't."

Leo looked at the doctor, his eyes wide and his heart shattered, "No, doc."

The doctor nodded sadly, "We've done the smear three times, and the symptoms match ALL as well. Fatigue, swollen lymph nodes, the anemia, and the loss of appetite. However, what worried me was him saying that his joints felt stiff. It means that the leukemia has invaded his joints," McConnal ran a hand through his short hair, "We're not sure what stage Chris is at yet, but we think its ALL-L2, the middle stage. We'll know for sure when he has a bone marrow biopsy in a few days to see how far this disease as progressed, and if its needed, a lumbar puncture might be needed to see if it has gone as far to the brain and spinal cord."

Piper sucked in a shuttering breath, tears spilling over the rim of her eyes, "My son as cancer."

McConnal frowned, "Yes, he does, but that doesn't mean he's dead Piper. We're going to fight this. I have the name of the best oncologist and hematologist and with their help we can beat it. It's gotten this far, we can't let it go any farther."

"What are his chances?" Leo asked.

"With someone of Chris's age and stature, forty-five to sixty-five percent."

"Oh God," Piper gasped.

The doctor sighed, "I believe it's time to tell Chris and Wyatt what is going on,"

Piper nodded and the doctor and Leo got up to usher the two teenagers into the room as Piper tried to compose herself. Sniffling, she weakly smiled at her two sons as they took the vacated seats in front of the desk.

"What's going on?" Wyatt asked, heavily worried.

"Now, Chris, we took a blood sample from you two weeks ago," Chris nodded, "Well, it did come back with anemia like we thought," the doctor said.

Chris looked at his parents, "I thought anemia wasn't serious."

"It's not," McConnal said, "But, it what's causing the anemia that is. Chris, you have what we all ALL, or Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia."

"No," Wyatt gasped, his eyes looking at his brother, "No."

Chris looked at his doctor with wide eyes, "I have..cancer?"

The doctor nodded sadly, "Yes."

Chris closed his eyes as tear built up in his eyes, "How…why?"

"No one knows why. It could be a chromosome, it could be a number of things, and sometimes things just like this happen."

Chris gulped, "Am I going to die?"

"No," Piper exclaimed as she knelt in front of her son. She cupped his cheek, a tear sliding down it, "No Peanut, God no," she breathed as she brought him into a tight embrace, "We're going to fight this."

Chris wrapped his shaking arms around his mother, "What's going to happen now?"

"We're going to take you to the best doctors and get you treated, and before you know it, you'll be back to your sarcastic self." Piper said.

Chris nodded into his mother's shoulder. He felt his father's hands on his shoulders, his hands gently massaging the tense muscles and he felt Wyatt's hand in his. The doctor smiled sadly and handed Leo two business cards, "That is the oncologist and the hematologist that I was talking about earlier, call them tonight and set up an appointment so you can figure out what drugs to use to fight this,"

Leo looked at the cards and frowned. His son's life was going to be in these two people's hands. He tightened the grasp on Chris's shoulder, he couldn't lose Chris a second time, he couldn't.


	2. Part Two

The car ride home was silent. Piper called her sisters as they walked out of the doctor office so they could meet them at the manor. Phoebe and Paige tried to get the answer out of her from the phone but the eldest sister deferred them by telling that this had to be done in person. She knew her sisters were worried and knew that her family was going to be bombarded with questions the moment that they got home.

Glancing behind her, she looked at her sons. Wyatt kept an eye on Chris, the seventeen-year-old looking at his younger brother in disbelief. It was as if Wyatt couldn't believe that there was a biological war going on in Chris's body. Meanwhile, the youngest was just peering out the window, his sage green eyes hazed over as his mind was probably twenty miles from where he was.

Beside her, Leo was stoic. It appeared that all he had on his mind was to get home. His hands clenched the steering wheel tightly; his knuckles a milky white. He knew Leo was having a mental battle with himself, probably berating himself for not realizing that his youngest son was so ill.

The Wyatt-Halliwell family pulled into the driveway and Piper saw her sister's cars on the street. With a sigh, she pulled herself out of the car and headed up towards the front door, her kin behind her. "Chris," she addressed, "You don't have to say anything. I'll do all the talking if you want. You can go to your room if you want."

Chris looked at his mom, his green eyes shaded by his dark brown bangs, "Can I sit outside for a bit?"

Piper smiled softly, "Of course Peanut," she gave her son a peck on the forehead, "Do you mind if Wyatt stays out with you?"

Chris merely shook his head before heading around the house to the backyard. "Just make sure he's okay, please." Piper requested.

Wyatt nodded and followed his brother. Piper frowned, "How is he supposed to make sure Chris is okay when he's in shock as well?"

"I think we're all in shock dear," Leo muttered as he opened the door.

Instantly, questions came from every member of the Halliwell family within the house. "Quiet!" Piper yelled, hushing the eight people inside, "Living room." She ordered.

Once everyone was settled, Piper looked at the faces among her. Her younger sister, Phoebe and her husband Coop sat on the couch with their twin seven-year-old girls – Melinda and Payton – settled on their laps. In the armchair beside the middle sister was her baby half-sister, Paige and her husband Henry with their two daughters, Samantha – who was fourteen, and Patricia – who was ten.

Piper gulped and ran her hands together. "Chris's blood results came in today," she said in a mere whisper.

"Honey, what's wrong? It is worse than anemia?" Phoebe anxiously asked, her eyes wide in worry.

Piper held back a sob, "Oh Phoebe, its ten-times worse."

"Piper, what's wrong with Chris," Paige softly demanded.

Closing her eyes and letting the tears slip down her face, Piper softly said, "Chris has leukemia."

* * *

Chris sat underneath the large oak tree that was in the backyard, his eyes on the dark wood fence that enclosed the yard. Leukemia. It was the farthest thing from his mind when he woke up this morning. The idea that his body could be warring with itself never appeared in his mind, but now, it was a reality.

He was fifteen! He wasn't supposed to be worried about dying. He should be worried about the next girl he wanted to date, the next CD to buy, what car to get in a few months on his next birthday, not dying.

Chris chuckled humorlessly. Who was he kidding? Dying was on his mind more often than not. It was kind of hard when you're part of the Halliwell family and you're a witch, and especially if your older brother and yourself was supposed to care on the Charmed One legacy. Chris loosely wrapped his arms around his waist. What was he supposed to do? He knew that he would probably have to go to chemotherapy, but besides that, he had no idea what he was up against.

Peering over towards the house, he saw his brother leaning against the wall, his own eyes glazed over as a million thoughts attacked his mind. Chris frowned before looking up at the sky. "If I die," he whispered, "please just hold off until Wy graduates, please." He begged.

* * *

Chris frowned as he read the information over ALL. Some of it went over his head, especially the stuff about the Philadelphia chromosome, but he got the gist of it. In laymen terms, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia basically meant that he was producing too many immature white blood cells, which suffocated his healthy cells. All of his recent symptoms, fatigue, lack of appetite, and other things, all collided with his disease.

Sighing, Chris closed his laptop and slid it under his bed. Pulling his legs towards him, Chris set his rested his chin upon his knees. Faintly, he could hear his brother's snores in the other room beside him and he was sure his mother and father were lying in bed, worrying and talking about him and the cancer.

After his mother broke the news to the rest of his family, the youngest Halliwell male found himself in the arms of many women, all hugging him until every last bit of oxygen was out of his lungs. And while he usual loved the close-knit family he had, he wanted to do nothing but shove them away and run up to his room. He hated the pity and fear that were in their eyes. It was as if they expected him to drop dead right there and then.

Growling, Chris threw a random book at the wall across from it, the thin book barely making a sound as it hit. Why did this happen to him? He was already cursed with a life of toil with just being a witch; let alone a Halliwell and a future Charmed One, so the Power To Be decided to throw in cancer for kicks and giggles? The young teenager burrowed his head into his knees. Who was he kidding? Even if this was some sick joke that karma decided to play on him, it didn't matter. He was going to die. Plain and simple.

He would never get to go to prom, graduate high school, go to college become successful. Instead, he was going to die a sick fifteen year old boy who didn't even get his driver's license yet. Curling up on his side, Christopher Halliwell began to weep, and soon fell into slumber's embrace.

* * *

Piper and Leo were doing as Chris hypothesized. "I'll drive Chris to the hematologist tomorrow for the bone marrow biopsy," she said monotone.

"And that will prove that this is just some sick nightmare." Leo whispered, his eyes clenching shut.

Piper turned and frowned, "Denying it isn't going to make it go away."

"Our son has cancer Piper," Leo said brokenly, "What are we going to do?"

Piper sniffled, her own tears threatening to spill over, "Fight through this like we always do. Be strong for him, and comfort each other behind doors. We can't break down in front of him Leo, he probably already depressed. If he sees us like this, he'll give up. We can let that happen."

"What about Wyatt?"

Piper sighed when she thought about her eldest son, "We'll find out in the morning,"

"He's in shock,"

"I know Leo, it's just, I've never seen him that…broken. He was like a robot."

"He just found out that his brother, his best friend, has cancer. He's going to be a bit absentminded for a bit."

Piper turned and look at Leo, "Everything is going to okay right?"

Leo looked at his wife, and wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear so desperately, but he also knew that he wouldn't want him to lie to her. "I don't know Piper, I honestly don't know."

* * *

Once again, Chris found himself on a doctor's table. Only this time, except in his street clothes, he was in a paper hospital gown. His mother sat next to him, his hand clenched in hers. He wasn't sure if it was to reassure him or to reassure herself.

The door opened up and a young man entered with a soft smile on his clean shaven face. Bright green eyes looked at the two Halliwells. "Christopher and Piper?" he said.

Piper nodded. "Hello, I'm Doctor Alderman, and I'm the hematologist that was assigned to Christopher's case. The oncologist should be arriving soon so you can meet her as well. And how are you feeling today Mr. Halliwell?"

Chris shrugged, "The usual for the last couple weeks."

"Tired?" Alderman inquired with a small frown, "Well, hopefully we can get this done quickly so you can get home and take a nap. Do you know what we're doing today?"

"A bone marrow biopsy." Chris answered sullenly.

The doctor nodded, "Yes, and you have every right not to sound too happy about it." He turned around and grabbed a small device, "After we numb you up, we're going to insert this needle into your pelvic area. Then we'll do what is called the aspiration part. That's where we take out the liquid in the marrow. After that," this time the doctor grabbed a much larger needle, "we do that actual biopsy where we take a section of the bony cortex within the marrow. Understand?"

Chris gulped at the sight of the large needle. "Yeah."

"Also, we might be doing what is called a lumbar puncture, but that won't be today." The doctor quickly reassured after seeing Chris's fearful gaze, "We'll wait until you've healed from the biopsy."

A soft knock on the door alerted the people inside that someone was entering. A tall brunette Asian woman entered, "Sorry I'm late, traffic was worse than usual. I'm Doctor Khan, and I'm the oncologist for Christopher."

"I was just telling Christopher about the procedure." Doctor Alderman explained.

Khan nodded before looking at the young teen, "Do you want your mother to stay?"

"Yes please," Chris answered softly.

The two doctors nodded before turning to get wash their hands and slipping on a pair of latex gloves. "Alright Chris, lay on your stomach please," Alderman requested.

Chris sighed and maneuvered, his face looking at the door and his hand still clutched by his mother. Chris shivered slightly when he felt one of the doctor sterilize the area and then smear another liquid over his lower back. A few minutes passed. "Do you feel that?" Doctor Khan inquired.

Chris shook his head, unsure if they were actually prodding the skin or not. "Alright, we're going to start now. Now, you will feel some pain Christopher," she said, "But it's important that you don't move."

Chris sighed and got himself ready for the pain and nodded. Seconds later, he felt a sharp pressure just above his left butt cheek as he felt the thin needle push through skin and muscle, deep into his body. Chris gasped when he felt the needle scrap across bone and clenched his eyes shut when he felt it pierce through it.

"Shh Peanut," Piper said softly, her hand running through her son's shaggy hair and her heart clenching at the sight of her child in pain.

"Syringe," Alderson calmly ordered, the large plastic container given to him. Gently he attached it to the needle and began sucking the thick red liquid from the boy's body. Once three-quarters full, the blond doctor pulled both the syringe and the needle away from the boy. "Alright, part one is done Chris, and as much as I would love to say that was the easy part, I would be lying."

Chris mentally groaned. "Trephine needle please," Alderson requested, "Now Chris, don't tense and don't move."

The Half-Elder bit back a gasp of pain as a thicker, larger needle was introduced into his body. He felt it dive through and attach itself into his bone. The doctor then began twisting, the needle slowly going into the soft bone, making Chris tear up and wishing that he could just die now. Thirty seconds later, Chris felt the needle beginning to make its exit.

"Alright, we're going to turn you over, and you'll lie there for five to ten minutes," Khan explained, her hands guiding the boy in the turn, "Now, the aspiration part of the test should be back by tomorrow, the actual biopsy will take a few more days, Tuesday will the most likely day it should come back, Monday, late afternoon at the earliest."

"And after that?" Piper inquired.

"We'll discuss treatment plans." Khan answered. "Alright Chris, you can go and put your clothes on. Mrs. Halliwell, I'm going to give you a prescription for paracetamol, it's a pain reliever that he can take for the next few days," she explained soon after Chris departed, "If there is any fevers, increase of pain or redness, please call right away. Those are usually signs for a complication."

Piper nodded and took the slip of paper from the doctor just as Chris re-entered the room in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, comfortable clothes being worn out of suggestion and Chris was thankful that they heeded it. His back felt as if he was stabbed with an anthame multiple times.

"Ready to go Peanut?"

Chris nodded and followed his mother into the car. He winced as he slid into the seat, his back arched so it didn't touch the hot leather. Luckily, the manor was a short ten minute drive from the doctor's office. Groaning, Chris eased open the door, the pain in his back worsening from the bumps in the roads. Piper rushed to the passenger side and helped her son out of the SUV.

Chris winced as he went up the stairs, his mother letting him leaning against her slightly. She opened the door and led her son into the living room, deciding that she'll help him up them later when the pain killers had started to kick in. But first, she had to get them.

Slowly, she laid her son on the couch, the young teenage wincing when his back hit cushions. Piper gently covered Chris with an afghan before trotting into the kitchen, finding her eldest son and husband seated around the island.

"How's Chris?" Leo quickly asked.

"In pain," Piper replied, "Can you go and watch him, make sure he doesn't get up, I need to get him his prescription."

"I'll watch him," Wyatt quietly offered, slipping out of his seat and leaving his half-eaten bowl of cereal on the marble top.

When Wyatt entered the living room, he saw his baby brother on the couch; his eyes crunched shut from the pain. He was on his side, clutching the red blanket. "Hey bro," Chris softly greeted, a small forced smile.

Wyatt tried to smile without it looking like a grimace. He sat down in the armchair next to Chris and ruffled the boy's hair. Chris always hated that. "I hate you," Chris muttered as he weakly batted the hand away from his disheveled strands.

Wyatt grinned and leaned back, "So, how bad was it?"

Chris snorted, "It was painful, they stuck a needle the size of a freaking pencil into my back and pulled out a section of my bone,"

Wyatt growled softly. He couldn't believe that this was happening to his brother. It shouldn't be happening to him; they were supposed to be the Charmed Ones. Him and his brother, the next in line to wield the Power of Three while his cousins went off to become whitelighters and cupids, the two Wyatt-Halliwell children would be the Wiccan branch of the next generation. But that can't happen if one of them was dead.

Feeling a cold hand on his, Wyatt broke out of his angry thoughts. "I'm going to be fine Wy," he heard Chris whisper.

Wyatt smiled sadly at his brother and patted Chris's hand, "I hope so bro, I really hope so."

* * *

Two days later, Chris found himself back at the doctor's office, his head bowed as he tried to rub sleep from his eyes. It was seven in the morning and all the sick boy wanted to do was go back to bed. The door opened and Doctor Alderson entered the room, a slight grim expression on his face. "Good morning," he grumbled before taking a long swig from his thermos as he lean against the counter, "Now, Chris's bone marrow results came back. Like we thought, his white blood cell count was a bit high. His was at fourteen, the normal person's levels should be between four and eleven. His platelets and red blood cells were low due to the other cells. His red blood cells are 4.1, while they should be between 4.7 to 6.1, and his platelets were at 130 and those should be around 150-400 liters." The doctor quickly said, "The low platelets is a reason to worry, because if he gets cut or hits something, he won't clot easily."

Piper nodded, "Do we need to do the lumbar puncture?"

Alderson shook his head, "There's no signs that the leukemia has transgressed far enough that it has invaded the spinal cord or brain. Now, on to why we're here, treatment plan. I would like to get this started tomorrow if all possible. We're going to start him on chemotherapy treatment and try to force this disease into remission. It's going to be a combination of drugs that will hopefully kill off the malignant cells."

"And if it doesn't?" Piper asked.

The doctor sighed, "We'll figure that out if we need to cross that bridge. Now, there will be some adverse effects to using chemo as you probably know. Chris will probably feel very weak after each session and possibly be nauseated and might vomit. His appetite will decrease, but you need to eat Chris, it will keep your energy up." He gently reminded the young teen, "You'll lose your hair, and your immune system will be depressed so try not to get sick or that might put off the next chemo treatment."

Chris nodded, his gaze on his beat-up sneakers.

"Tomorrow, you'll go a clinic on 17th street. You'll put hooked up via IV to a machine that will pump the medicine into your body. It will take about an hour for the treatment to be complete. They'll detach it and have you sit around for a half an hour to make sure the nausea isn't too bad. Then you'll go home and return every week. Understand?"

Chris sighed. He didn't like the sound of getting some akin to poison being pumped into his body, nor did he like the idea of being bald, however he found the idea of being dead a far worse feeling than the other two. So, he nodded with a frown on his face.

"Alright, Doctor Khan will be at the clinic to help you through this," Alderson said, before he reached forward and patted Chris's knee, "I'm not going to lie and say that this is going to be a walk in the park. Its gonna suck, a lot. But, it will get better Chris."

"If you say so," mumbled Chris.

Alderson gave Chris's one last pat before standing, "Keep faith Chris, you'll make it through this. Have a nice day now."

* * *

Doctor Khan smiled as Chris and his parents ventured into the cancer clinic. "Hello, I'm Doctor Jennifer Khan," she said, shaking Leo's hand, "I'm sure we'll be spending some time with each other, so call me Jennifer, or Jen."

"I'm Leo Wyatt, Chris's father." Leo replied.

"Nice to meet you, now if you follow me, I'll take you to the room where Chris will be getting the chemo treatment."

The room was quite small; it could only fit three padded chairs within its wall. Luckily, the treatment chairs were empty so Chris would be taking his first dose in private. "If you just sit right that, we'll hook you up to an IV." She gently instructed, the brunette teenager sliding into the seat.

He shivered as the nurse cleaned the crook of his arm with a disinfectant before sliding in a thin needle into his vein. The elderly woman smiled and gently patted the appendage before wheeling over the pole, a large clear bag hanging on one of the hooks. She took the clear tube and inserted into the drip that was connected to the needle. "If you feel sick just let us know dear," she said with a kind smile.

Chris sighed and leaned back, "I'm getting poison pumped into my body to fight a disease that is killing me, if that's not irony, I don't know what is."

Piper smiled sadly and took a seat next to her son and held his hand, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Mom, it just started," drawled Chris, rolling his eyes.

Fifteen minutes, Chris was bent over a small hospital pan, puking. His free arm was wrapped around his stomach as it clenched painfully as another bout of bile rose. He leaned back with a gasp when he felt his stomach settle a little bit. "Remind me not to eat before coming here again," he weakly moaned.

Piper frowned and smooth back her son's damp bangs in an attempt to comfort her child. "Your stomach will hopefully settle after a while."

Chris sighed and closed his eyes, "This sucks."

Leo stood and took his son's hand. Leaning down, he pecked his son's forehead, "I know, but you're tough it out."

Chris chuckled, "Its not like I have a choice Dad."

Leo smiled at his son, but the expression quickly vanished when Chris groaned and leaned forward to spew more vomit into the basin. Chris moaned as he leaned back, "This is going to be a long hour."

* * *

Chris stumbled into the manor and beelined for the bathroom. His stomach had settled after the chemo treatment, but once he got in the car and his father started driving, the nausea returned and by time he reached the manor the bile had reached the apex of his throat. Leaning over the toilet, he spewed his stomach contents into the bowl. By time he was done, he was gasping for breath.

"You okay,"

Chris weakly smiled at his father, "Yeah," he croaked, his throat raw.

Leo rubbed his son's back, the teenager moaning as he turned back towards the basin and once again puked. The blond man kneeled by his son's side and drew him into his arms once he was done, the boy groaning as he curled an arm around his stomach. "Shh," Leo gently breathed, smoothing back his son's hair, "You think you can make it to your bedroom so you can rest in your bed?"

Chris nodded and let his father help him stand and lead him to his bed. Chris curled up as Leo tucked his son in and brought the garbage bin to the edge it. "The garbage can is right next to you if you need it," Leo whispered, "Try to get some sleep buddy,"

Chris sighed and nuzzled deeper into his bed and curled up tighter and attempted to ignore his churning stomach and sleep. Soon after, Chris fell into a light sleep. Leo smiled and pecked his youngest son's temple before leaving the boy's bedroom.

* * *

Chris swatted at the hand was currently shaking him. He just got to sleep! "What?" he muttered, half-asleep.

"Dinner buddy," Leo answered with a small, remorseful smile.

The mere aspect of food made Chris turn green. "I'm not hungry,"

"You have to eat Chris," Leo said, "Come on, just a little bit."

"I'm just going to throw it all back up, so what's the point?" rebutted Chris, his arms crossing over his chest. During the action, Leo couldn't help but notice that where the nurse had put the IV was now a disgusting purple and green bruise. However, Chris was apply direct pressure on to it and didn't seem to notice.

"You have to keep up your energy," Leo argued.

Chris snorted and turned to look at his wall, mumbling something under his breath. Leo leaned in closer, "What did you say?"

"I said, what does it matter, I'm just going to die anyway."

Leo drew in a sharp breath and quickly drew his son into his arms, "No Chris, you're not going to die."

"How do you know?" Chris whispered softly, his head bowed.

Leo clutched his baby boy tighter in his arms, "I won't allow it. You're not dying Chris, we're going to fight this," Leo vowed, burring his face into his son's dark brown strands, hiding his own tears as he felt Chris's soak his shirt.

* * *

Wyatt couldn't help it. During the night, he slipped into his brother's room. He smiled as he glanced around, he could remember when he and Chris were younger, they had to share this room. Now five years later, the walls were painted a different color, the once off-white walls were now replaced by Chris's favorite color, turquoise. His own sports memorabilia was long gone and in its place was soccer posters and random band materials that Wyatt didn't know half of what they did. However, his smile was wiped off when he saw his baby brother in his bed, curled up sleeping. It was odd that two days ago Chris would look normal. Now, all Wyatt could see was the sickness. Leukemia, an abstract thing that he never thought would impact his life. His friends have had love ones perish to the disease, but his family was the Halliwells, they had so many other things to worry about that normal, mortal problems, like sickness didn't seem fathomable.

Wyatt had to hold back a snort. He wondered if this was how everyone felt when something like this happened to them. He was in one of the cliché 'It will never happen to me' scenarios where it does happen to you, only instead of his life being on the line, it was his baby brother, the person he swore to protect since the day he turned a big brother. But, how do you protect someone from their own body?

He tensed when Chris turned in his sleep but let out a small sigh of relief when his brother stilled. Wyatt noticed the garbage can and frowned. His brother must still be feeling queasy from the chemo treatment today. At dinner, Chris had only made it to three bites of mashed potatoes before bolting to the bathroom, his father quickly following.

Wyatt tried to continue eating dinner but couldn't. He couldn't eat knowing his brother was vomiting because of a poison in his system for a bunch of stupid cells that weren't reproducing correctly.

Why did this even have to happen to him in the first place? Wyatt thought angrily, his icy blue eyes narrowing.

They were the good witches, the ones that were going to go out and save thousands of innocents in their lifetime but yet someone, some deity out there, gave his baby brother cancer. How could they fight demons when his brother was fighting for his life? Wyatt growled. What did they ever do to warrant this? They've sacrificed their time, their lives, for the Greater Good, and they repay them by doing this? Making their youngest male suffer and possibly die before his sixteenth birthday? It was ludicrous.

Hearing his brother mutter something in his sleep, Wyatt quickly slipped out of Chris's room and into his own. He sank into his bed and dropped his head into his hands. How could this happen? Chris didn't smoke, didn't drink, and he was a good kid. He went to school, did soccer during the spring and marching band during the fall. He made time for his family, even for the annoying brats they called their cousins. He did his chores...most of the time...he was a bit sarcastic at times, but who wasn't in their family?

Wyatt sniffled. How could he fix this?

How could he save his baby brother from death's grip?

* * *

When Chris woke up, he prayed that the nausea would be finished. However, when the smell of fresh pancakes wafted into his room, Chris gagged. As the scent grew stronger so did the churning in his stomach. He turned and dry heaved into his garbage can. Groaning, he laid on his back, the white of his ceiling glaring back at him. He didn't even know why he bothered. He was going to die anyways. He didn't even know why his parents were even grabbing ahold of the thin strand of hope that chemotherapy is giving them. There was a high chance that it was going to fail. And for what? To spend his last moments on Earth crouched over the toilet puking his brains out?

Wrapping an arm around his stomach, Chris began to pushing himself up, focused on getting through the day with a smile on his face. Well, at least, a sarcastic smile on his face, a normal one would tip his family off to something being wrong. When he turned to fix his pillow, he froze. Nestled on the off-white cotton were small strands of chocolate brown. Only a few, but a noticeable amount. Gathering it in his hand, Chris gulped. It had begun.

* * *

It was about noon when he finally got both the nerve and energy to stumble down the stairs. He found his mother in her sanctuary; the kitchen. She smiled at him when she saw him enter the room but she wasn't fooling him. Her brown eyes were rimmed in red and her voice was hoarse when she wished him a 'Good morning.'

She was weeping over dishes and it was his fault. Chris bowed his head as he reached for the orange juice, deciding that he should at least get something in his stomach. "Your aunts are coming over today," Piper told her son.

Chris looked at her, a slight apprehension shining in his eyes. "Only Phoebe and Paige, Henry and Coop are taking the girls to the park after they get out of school,"

"When will I go back to school?" Chris softly inquired.

Piper frowned, "Maybe it would be best to take a break."

"But I won't graduate on time," Chris quickly rebuked, his mind filling in 'If I make it to my graduation' .

"There are more important things right now Chris," Piper answered tensely.

Chris gritted his teeth, "Mom, my life has been turned upside down, I just want one thing to hold on to, please."

"You don't have the energy nor the health to get through a whole day of school,"

"What about," Chris paused as he tried to think of a solution, "Home schooling? I could do it on my own time."

"Chris, you should be focused on getting better-"

"Mom, please."

Piper sighed, "I'll talk to your father about it."

* * *

Chris hugged his Aunt Paige back, his chest still hurting from Phoebe's bear hug a few minutes ago. He felt Paige's hand rubbing his back as if attempting to clean his disease from his body. He pulled back and smiled at his favorite (although he'll never admit it) aunt. "How you feeling sport?" Paige inquired.

Chris merely shrugged in response. The orange juice only made a return visit twenty minutes after he drank it, but it was the longest he has kept anything down and the scent of the hamburgers his mother was cooking was delicious smelling, his stomach clenching in both hunger and nausea. He didn't even know a person could feel ill and ravenous at the same time.

Paige and Phoebe led Chris into the living room and sat with him on the couch. Phoebe took his hand while Paige took the other. "How are you really feeling Chris?" Phoebe asked, a frown on her face.

Chris leaned back, his eyes on the ceiling, "Depressed. Lost. Losing."

Paige gently tugged Chris into a loose embrace, "You'll be fine Chris. You're too stubborn to die to a little thing like leukemia. Psh, I mean come on, we're Halliwells, we fight demons! A little disease isn't going to put a dent into us."

Chris snorted, "No, but me dying will."

Paige tightened her grasp on her nephew and looked at her sister. Phoebe looked on the verge of tears. Paige waved her away knowing that the young man would feel guilty if he saw someone tearing up because of him. "You're not going to die Chris, we won't allow it."

"You don't really have a say with death Aunt Paige," Chris remarked.

Paige closed her eyes and brought Chris even closer to her. Even at the age of fifteen, Chris was still a small boy. He barely broke five feet and only weighed a hundred and ten pounds. Paige ran a hand through Chris's hair and had to hold back a sob when she saw small strands fall out of his scalp. The chemo was beginning its damage already. She took a deep breath. If the chemo was killing his hair cells that meant that it was also killing the cancer cells. She rather have a bald, alive nephew than a dead one. She felt Chris shake underneath her hands. "Shh, what's a matter sweetheart?"

Chris shook his head, refusing to answer. Paige scowled. "Don't you dare act macho for me mister. You can act macho for everyone else, but you're fifteen not twenty-one. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm scared Auntie." he whispered, his eyes closing.

Paige held back tears and brought her little nephew into her lap, the boy barely fitting but she didn't care, and cuddled him. "You would be crazy if you weren't sweetheart. But you have to have faith that you will pull through this."

Chris sniffled but nodded, his face burred in Paige's neck. Paige whispered to him, calming him, but also knowing that Chris had to get these tears out. He could put a brave face on for everyone else, but Paige could see right through it. While Chris might be acting like he was taking this all in stride, she knew that inside he was a small fifteen year old boy not knowing if he would wake up the next morning. To be on death's door and not knowing it was one thing. But knowing that the black door decorated with skulls and crossbones was in front of you, the Grim Reaper beckoning you to come in was probably terrifying, horrifying and stressful. Something no child the mere age of fifteen should be up against. Paige tightened her grasp. Even if she had to fight Death to end, she wouldn't let this disease take someone close to her, especially someone she already lost once.

* * *

Phoebe walked into the kitchen and ducked as a burnt hamburger patty was chucked at her. "Whoa, its just me!" she exclaimed.

Piper frowned and muttered an apology before turning back to her work, "I would ask how dinner was coming but I think I just got my answer," Phoebe lightly joked.

"Glad you can still crack jokes Pheebes." Piper growled.

Phoebe sighed and brought her sister into an embrace, "I know its tough Piper, but we'll get through this."

"Eight times,"

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, silently asking for her sister to elaborate. "Eight times he has thrown up, today. Yesterday was worse."

"It's a side effect, we knew this was gonna happen."

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad? He can't keep anything down!" Piper exclaimed, "If the leukemia doesn't kill him the starvation will!"

Phoebe shushed her sister, "Doesn't he see his doctor in a few days, mention it to him, maybe they can give him something."

Piper sniffled, "He goes for a blood test in two days, hopefully they get their answers from that, because I don't want to see my son going through another marrow biopsy."

"Piper, nothing in this treatment is going to sunshine and roses, but in the end it will get him better."

"What if it doesn't?" Piper muttered, "Then I just damned my son to live the last days of his life in a bathroom and in doctor offices."

Phoebe rubbed Piper's back, "Everything will be fine. He'll get better and then we'll continue on with life."

Piper hugged her sister tightly, "But...he could die Phoebe, my baby could die," Piper whispered brokenly, "A mother isn't supposed to bury her own child!"

"Shh, that won't happen Piper, Chris is too stubborn and strong to die."

Piper leaned back and wiped her cheeks, "Sometimes stubbornness and strength isn't enough...it wasn't enough for Prue."

"Chris is different from Prue."

Piper raised an eyebrow, "Is he?"

* * *

He grimaced as he poked his hamburger patty, this sight of the cooked meat making him queasy at just the aspect of eating it. The few french fries that he has managed to choke down already had his stomach churning.

"Try to eat a bit more Peanut," Piper softly urged.

Chris raised an eyebrow at his mother, hoping that his silent message of 'Are you kidding' was showing through. Piper frowned and pleaded with her eyes. Caving, Chris broke off a piece of the patty and shoved it in his mouth and quickly swallowed after a few chews, hoping that if he didn't taste the meat that it would affect his stomach as much. He sipped his ginger ale, the bubbly liquid doing nothing like it did for when he had the flu a few years ago. He attempted to eat a few more fries but after his third one, he bolted to the bathroom to puke it all up. He groaned as his stomach clenched. He just wanted to get through one meal without vomiting. Was that too much to ask? Leaning on the toilet seat, Chris flushed it and laid by the porcelain pot. The doctor said that his nausea would gradually get better as time went on, but this was his second day, shouldn't his food be at least attempting to stay in his stomach? With a small exhale, Chris pushed himself up and into his bedroom. His appetite - abate as small as it was - was completely abolished by now and all he wanted to do was sleep. Chris fell onto his bed and curled up, forgoing changing out of his street clothes and just covering up and closing his eyes. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

By the fourth day, Chris's nausea had settled enough for him to be able to eat simple soups and crackers without it reappearing minutes later. However, the car ride wasn't helping his uneasy stomach. Piper and Chris pulled into the doctor office and headed straight into a room, Doctor Alderson already waiting. "Hello Chris, how are you feeling?"

Chris shrugged as he hopped up on the table, his arm already poised for the taking of his blood. The doctor quickly swabbed the place and pushed the needle into the thin skin, the boy wincing slightly as it broke through. Soon, the small vile was filled with thick red liquid. "Alright, " the doctor stated as pressed a small cotton square onto the puncture site, "Apply pressure. How has your nausea been?"

"Horrible," Chris answered with a frown.

"Its to be expected," replied Alderson, a small remorseful smile on his face, "We also need to weigh you. If the nausea continues to be a problem with future treatments we can prescribe anti-nausea medication. But I suggest ginger and some Sprite or 7-Up to help calm your stomach." he suggested as he helped Chris down from the table and led him to a small scale at the end of the hallway, "Jump on that please." he said, the boy doing so, "Hmm, one-oh-five. You lost eight pounds."

"Eight pounds, in four days?" Piper said, shocked and concerned.

"It could just be because of Chris's nausea, but if its get too bad, we'll prescribe steroids to help boost his weight." Alderson quickly reassured, "Now, the blood tests will return in a few days, and you have your next treatment on the eighteenth, correct?" Chris nodded to the doctor, "Well, we would like to put in a port after your next treatment,"

"Port?" inquired Piper.

The doctor nodded, "Yes, its basically an IV, but it will be placed under Chris's collarbone, it will be easier for him to get chemo that way, and they won't have to put an IV in his every week. It's a small surgery, out-patient and will only take a few hours."

Piper frowned, "And when will this take place?"

"A few days after his next treatment would be best. Perhaps the twenty-first?"

"That will do," Piper replied.

"Alright, until then." Alderson said with a small smile, "Now Chris please try to eat. Even if its just a few bites, anything is better than nothing."

Chris sighed but nodded nonetheless before he followed his mother out of the doctor's office.

* * *

Two weeks later, Chris found himself with a port underneath his collarbone and once again vomiting into the toilet. He could smell the broccoli casserole his mother made for the family, his own bowl of chicken noodle soup sitting with only a few spoonfuls missing. It was Wednesday, the day after his treatment and his nausea was at its worse. After his body was sure that every bit of food and nearly all his stomach acid found a new home in the bright blue water, he flushed it down the drain and groaned as he leaned against the sink counter. He was so sick of this, no pun attended. He wanted the anti-nausea pills the last time he went to the doctor, but they said that they wanted to keep him as many drugs as they could. But, he couldn't live like this. Chris snorted. He wouldn't, he had a deadly disease killing him. In the end, all of this will be for nothing.

* * *

"Ninety-seven pounds," Alderson read off with a heavy frown, "Nausea still bad?"

Chris nodded, his body worn down and he wanted to do nothing but crawl in bed and sleep. "Alright, we'll prescribe some anti-nausea drugs, hopefully that will calm your stomach down enough that you'll be able to get some calories into your body." the doctor explained as he led Chris and Piper back to the room, "Also, we got Chris's recent blood results back as we know and they're showing us that while the chemo is working, its not working fast enough. So, we're going to be adding another drug known as daunomycin to help combat the cancer cells more efficiently. It shouldn't give you anymore side-effects, so you don't have to worry about that."

Piper nodded mutely, afraid after hearing that the drugs that her son was already on wasn't doing their job. "And the anti-nausea drugs?"

"I'll fax the prescription to your pharmacy, they should be ready for pick up by time you get there. They'll start working after a few days they're introduced into your body. They won't get rid of all your nausea but they should calm it enough that you should be able to get some food into your body. We need to get that weight up or it could put us in a bad place."

Chris sighed. Eating was becoming a chore for him, and honestly he didn't look forward to taking these pills. He couldn't believe that he had to take a pill in order to even eat, it was ludicrous. Was he ever going to live a normal life again? Chris frowned and looked at his knees. Would he be able to live?

 


	3. Part Three

Chris groaned as the sun hit his eyes, awaking him. He turned but the damage was already done. Slowly, he opened his eyes and frowned. The faint scent of pancakes, bacon, and various other breakfast foods hung in the air, the scent slightly stale, meaning that his mom has already cooked the family their food for the weekly family gathering. He sighed as he pushed himself up and ran a hand through his hair. He blinked when he felt a patch of smooth skin. He twisted sharply and his eyes grew wide at the sheer amount of brown that littered his pillow. Looking at his hand, he licked his lips in nervousness when he saw them covered in strands.

He quickly grabbed his clothes for the day and rushed to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. His once thick hair was now thinning out to the point of unhealthy and unfashionable. He growled. He wouldn't just sit around and let his hair fall out.

He gripped the sink counter and glared at the white porcelain, his mind working a mile a minute. Alright, he had leukemia, that was obvious. He spent the first two weeks in the bathroom, vomiting everything that entered his body, but with his new anti-nausea drugs he could at least eat light foods without getting a churning stomach and he hasn't seen the inside of a toilet for two days. His weight has fallen to a mere ninety-three pounds and he was asleep more than he was awake. His gripped tightened. Is this how is was expected to live his possible last days on Earth? Depressed? Afraid of dying each and every night? Freaking out because he was losing his hair? He was being ridiculous! If these were his last days, he should live them to his fullest, not holed up in a room.

Chris shook his head. He was fifteen not two. Everyone has been telling that he wasn't given a death sentence three and half weeks ago, and maybe he should actually listen to them. Glancing up at the mirror, Chris glared at the sickly looking boy in the glass. He was a Halliwell and Halliwells didn't go down without a fight. It didn't matter that this wasn't a demon and it was some disease. He was going to fight it, and he was going to win. He was always told that he was the most stubborn of his family, well, it was time to use that stubbornness for a good cause.

Digging in a drawer, Chris smirked when he felt his father's razor. With a flick, it flashed to life, a small buzzing noise filling the room. It was time to fight back.

* * *

Chris exhaled forcibly as he walked down the stairs. He told himself that he would act like nothing happened and to play it off as nothing. Easier said than done. He turned into the dining room and heard a series of short, sharp gasps. Without a word he grabbed a few pieces of buttered toast, his anti-nausea pills and a glass of orange juice and sat down and began to eat.

"Peanut," Piper gasped.

Chris shrugged and swallowed before speaking, "It was just going to fall out anyways. I was sick and tired of waking up with hair all over the place,"

Wyatt looked at his brother, the boy's new bald head drawing every eye to it. It was like a big slap in the face. With the clean scalp, thin stature and dark bags under his eyes, his baby brother looked like the poster boy for leukemia. Wyatt wanted to do nothing but draw his brother into a hug and let him know that he wasn't in this alone, but that was hard when he was standing here perfectly healthy and his brother was fighting to live another day. Glancing around, Wyatt realized that everyone was paying attention to Chris. Wyatt slipped away and quickly trotted up the stairs. He had to do something.

* * *

Chris looked at this second piece of toast and refused to look up. He could sense that every eye was on him and his newly acquired bald scalp, but he refused to let it all fall out and to get depressed every time he woke up and saw more of his hair gone. This way, it was gone and he didn't have to worry about it. Although, he would be lying if he didn't say he didn't hate looking in the mirror and seeing his scalp. It was like a billboard plastered on his head proclaiming that he had cancer. He sighed as he pushed his plate away. He glanced up when he heard his mother gasp and his eyes grew wide. Wyatt stood awkward in the doorway, his once chin length blond curls gone. Wyatt smiled at Chris and shrugged.

Chris stood and wrapped his arms around his brother's neck tightly, not caring that he had to stand on his tip toes to do so. He felt Wyatt's arms coil around him and Chris buried his head into Wyatt's shoulder. Wyatt laid a hand on the back of Chris's head. "You're not alone bro," Wyatt softly whispered.

Chris sniffled, "Thank you,"

* * *

The next day, Chris found himself in the padded chair within the small corridors of the cancer clinic. A small tube was connected to his port in his collarbone, the chemo slowly being pumped in. Idly, Chris read his chemistry textbook, his mother and father finally agreeing that Chris could continue his schooling while be treated. He winced when he felt his stomach twist and prayed that his small breakfast didn't decide to reappear. Luckily, his pills seemed to be holding out and keeping his meals down. He sighed as he flipped a page and frowned at the series of complex chemical formulas. He ran a hand over his smooth skin, flinching for a moment when he didn't feel his shaggy hair before remembering what he did yesterday morning. With a heavy exhale, Chris leaned over an grabbed his notebook and started doing the assigned exercise.

* * *

Alderson frowned as he entered the room, Chris's files in hand. The young doctor sat down and looked at the mother and son that were sitting on the table. "We got Chris's blood results back, and the chemo isn't working like we want it to." he stated, "The cancer cells are being produced faster than we're killing them,"

"Then what should we do?" Piper asked, her eyes wide.

"I suggest an increase in dosage," Alderson stated as he marked it down on the chart, "I will also increase the amount of anti-nausea pills so Chris can continue keeping his meals down and hopefully start putting on some weight,"

"And this will start on his next treatment?" Piper inquired as she took the prescription from the doctor.

Alderson nodded, "Hopefully this will be the last thing we need to do to battle the leukemia."

* * *

"Chris-"

Wyatt halted in the threshold and looked at his brother on the couch. The fifteen year old was sleeping, his algebra book on his chest. Wyatt frowned slightly and looked over his shoulder debating to wake up his baby brother for lunch or not. Sighing, Wyatt gently took the textbook and put it on the coffee table and then pulled a blanket over Chris. The boy mumbled and curled up, clenching the fabric closer to his body. Wyatt chuckled and went to ruffle Chris's hair, his hand actually touching the bare scalp before he realized that he couldn't do that routine gesture. The older brother frowned when he touched the warm skin. Looking closer at his brother, Wyatt realized that Chris was shivering slightly.

Quickly, he headed into the kitchen and got his mother. "I think he's sick." Wyatt stated as his mother felt Chris's forehead.

Piper frowned and turned towards her eldest, "Get the thermometer,"

Wyatt rushed upstairs and did as his mother told him to do. By time he got back downstairs, Chris was sitting up and leaning against Piper. He weakly smiled at Wyatt. "Hey bro," Wyatt whispered as he sat next to Chris.

"Open up," Piper softly ordered as she slid the glass tube into her son's mouth, "Why didn't you tell us you were feeling sick?"

Chris shook his head, "I-"

"Tell me after your temperature is taken." Piper lightly chided.

A few minutes later, Piper took the thermometer out and promptly frowned, "102, now what were you trying to say?"

"I didn't feel sick before," Chris answered, "I was just tired but I figured that was because of the leukemia,"

Sighing, Piper lightly patted her son's knee, "I'm going to call Doctor Khan, see what she wants to do,"

Chris nodded and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, shivering slightly. Wyatt frowned and brought his brother closer so he could absorb some of his body heat, "So, need help on your algebra?"

Chris snorted and grabbed the textbook, "When don't I need help on this? I mean, whoever's bright idea it was to add letters into math deserves to die."

"Sadistic much?" joked Wyatt.

Chris glared at his brother, "The person that decided that X had to too many problems to solve its self is a sadist, not me. I'm just a poor tortured soul trying to figure out this crap, crap that I will probably never use again in my life I might add."

Wyatt laughed and took Chris's textbook, "Alright, question number 14…"

* * *

The next day, Chris was too ill to leave his bedroom. During the night his fever had spiked to 106, the young man having night terrors that awoke his parents and brother, however no matter they attempted to awake him, Chris was caught within slumber's grasp. Piper immediately called both Khan and Alderson, telling them about the recent illness and they told her that they would contact Chris's usual doctor - McConnal - to come over and figure out what was wrong. The older doctor frowned and quickly took a vile of blood from Chris and hurried out to get it tested to figure out what was attacking him.

Piper sat at her son's bedside, constantly running a damp rag over the fevered skin in a futile attempt to keep it down. Leo was sitting at the foot of the bed and Wyatt hovered behind his parents. In his hands, Leo clutched the cordless phone, awaiting for the call from McConnal. Chris moaned as Piper dab his forehead, the young man turning away from it. Piper shushed her son, still trying to comfort him.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of the phone broke the silence and Leo quickly picked it up. He nodded and a few minutes hung up, his face solemn. "He said its just a cold, but since Chris's immune system is being killed by the chemo his body has no defense against such a simple disease,"

"So? What does that mean?" Piper demanded.

"He said he prescribed antibiotics and sent them over the pharmacy, and said that's all he can really do in short of admitting Chris to the hospital." Leo explained, "I'll go get them now."

* * *

"We can continue treatment if he still this sick," Doctor Khan explained over the phone to Piper.

Piper scowled, "But, he's only going to get worse if he doesn't get chemo."

Khan sighed, "Yes, but if we continue with the therapy the illness could get worse and Chris could die from that. With the antibiotics, the cold should be flushed from his system in a few days, and especially by time his next treatment is scheduled in two weeks."

"Are there going to be any serious consequences to not getting his treatment this week?"

"We can only hope not Mrs. Halliwell, but nothing can be said for sure with cancer, especially with leukemia." Khan replied, "Just give me a call a few days before Chris's next treatment and tell me how he's faring and we'll decide if we can continue with the chemotherapy for that day."

Piper sighed and agreed to do so before hanging up and walking back into her son's room. Wyatt had taken her spot next to Chris's head and resumed the task of dabbing cool water on the flushed skin. Leo had disappeared somewhere, probably to see if he could find anything to ease Chris's suffering. Piper exhaled forcibly and ran a hand through her graying brown hair. Even with the antibiotics in his system Chris still had a fever of 103 and wasn't waking up enough to become lucid. Getting the antibiotics into Chris's body was a hassle and a half. They had to push the pill down the unconscious boy's throat and than rub the muscles so they could finish the job.

Wyatt glanced up and locked eyes with his mother. He raised an eyebrow and Piper shook her head before heading out of the bedroom, calling her sisters so the worried aunts could get the play-by-play. Wyatt frowned and took his brother's hand in his and clutched it, "Chris, you have to survive, you know that right? Just, live please."

* * *

Two weeks later, Chris found himself with a stuffy nose and a slight cough in the familiar padded chair, his fingers tapping out a random rhythm as he attempted to keep his lunch down. "When I thought I didn't have to worry about vomiting again," Chris mumbled.

Piper chuckled, "Anti-nausea pills aren't doing their job?"

"Well, they're keeping that sandwich down so far but the queasy-ness makes me want to puke so it goes away,"

Piper patted her son's arm in sympathy, "We'll tell Alderson that the pills aren't doing what they're supposed to do,"

Chris nodded and opened his mouth to say something only to turn sharply and grab a basin shortly before vomiting. Groaning, Chris leaned back, "Well, there went my sandwich."

"I'll get you a towel," Piper said with a small smile.

"Thanks," Chris mumbled, closing his eyes, "This...sucks."

"Yes, you've told us numerous times," remarked Piper when she reentered the room, "Here,"

Chris muttered a thanks before dabbing his mouth with the damp cloth. "How much longer?" he softly inquired.

Piper glanced at the clock, "Thirty-five more minutes,"

Chris groaned and resisted the temptation of hitting his head on the chair, he was really hoping his mother said that he was done. But of course, the fates were against him...like always.

* * *

Chris bolted into a seated position when he heard a loud bang, his eyes wide. He heard his mother curse before the distinct sound of a vase exploding emerged. Seconds later, he heard his brother's door swing open and his feet pounding down the stairs. Chris rolled his eyes, apparently Wyatt once again forgot he could orb. Chris jumped up and quickly orbed downstairs. He jumped behind a wall when he spotted the trio of lower-level demons, a fireball soaring inches from his face. He cursed as he looked around, he saw his mother crouched behind the couch, clutching her arm. Hiding behind the television was his father, the blond man gasping for breath as he hid away from the demons, the man baring no powers. And Wyatt had finally made his appearance, but had to resort to hiding behind the china cabinet in the dining room as the demons sent a barrage of fireballs .

"Wyatt, anytime would be nice," Chris called out from his hiding spot.

"Well, maybe if I didn't have fireballs firing at me every three seconds I could actually do something!" responded Wyatt.

Chris sighed and using his telekinesis sent three of the dining room chairs towards the demons. The demons gasped and dove out of the way, stopping their attack just long enough for Wyatt to twist and flick his wrist, vanquishing them. Chris sighed and exposed himself from his hiding spot and frowned at the pile of ashes. He kicked one. "And here I thought I would get a demon-free time while I had cancer, but apparently not."

Wyatt snorted, "Right? What fantasy world do you live in?"

Chris chuckled, "A man can wish right?"

"Well, unless you have a genie that wish isn't going to come true little bro," Wyatt joked, throwing an arm over Chris's shoulders.

"Oh, well poo."

* * *

He stumbled into his bedroom, his hand clutching the doorframe tightly as his world spun around. "Chris? You okay buddy?"

"Yeah, just a bit dizzy," Chris mumbled, his father's arm wrapping around his center.

"How long as this been going on?" Leo asked as he lowered his son onto his bed.

"A few days?" Chris replied, slightly questioning his answer, "I dunno, it started in small flares a day after my chemo treatment and then now, its been almost constant."

Leo hummed in thought, "Lay down for a bit, I'll call the doctor, see what's going on."

"Great, now I have another thing wrong with me because leukemia wasn't enough." Chris said sarcastically.

Leo patted Chris's knee, "You'll be fine. It could just be something minor."

"Right, because something minor happens in this family,"

Leo rolled his eyes, "Just stay in bed while I call the doctors, alright?"

"Yes dad," Chris mumbled. He sighed when he heard his father close the door behind him, "Fates, you suck."

* * *

"Piper?" he called out as he walked down the stairs, "Piper?"

"In the kitchen!" she yelled.

Leo rolled his eyes, he should've known. Pushing the door open, he frowned as he saw his wife looking at a pile of papers, "What is that?"

"Chris's doctor bills. This is going to put us in debt for the next century," she moaned, her hand coming up to knead her forehead.

Leo crossed his arms, "Piper, we don't really have a choice,"

"I know, I know, its just" she sighed and ran a hand through her long hair, "I just didn't think about this when this all started,"

"I don't think anyone did Piper," Leo reassured as he brought her into a loose embrace, "It doesn't matter how much it cost Piper, we'll find a way to pay for it but right now, I'm more focused on making sure Chris at least hits sixty."

Piper sniffled and nodded, "What is it you called for?"

"Did the doctor say anything about vertigo when he was going over the chemotherapy or anti-nausea pills?" inquired Leo.

"Why? Is Chris okay?"

"He said he's been dizzy," Leo answered, "I'll call Doctor Alderson, or should I call Khan?"

Piper frowned, "Well, I guess it would be Khan first since she deals with the therapy, since I can't see anti-nausea pills doing this to him," she reasoned.

Leo nodded, "Alright, I'll give her a call," he stated before pecking her forehead before heading out the door.

* * *

"Ototoxicity," Leo sighed as he hung up the phone, his wife close by, "The chemo is damaging his inner ear which is producing the vertigo,"

"What are they going to do about it?" Piper asked.

Leo shrugged, "They're going to lower the dosage a little bit which will hopefully slow down the damage but they can't stop the therapy because Chris would just die from the leukemia then."

"Is it permanent?"

Leo frowned and clutched the phone, "It could be she said."

"Oh God," Piper gasped, "I thought all I had to worry about is the damn leukemia now I have to worry about the treatment hurting him as well?"

"Piper, they're pumping a poison into Chris's body, we should've expected some damage,"

"Yes, vomiting and hair loss is one thing Leo, but permanent damage to his hearing or balance, damn it Leo that could get him killed in the long run by demons!" exclaimed Piper.

Leo narrowed his eyes, "I'm not so focused on the demons right now Piper, I'm more worried about my son living!"

"Well, hate to break it you Leo, but demons are a big part of our lives or must I remind you of the attack a week ago?"

"Piper, our son can't fight demons if he's dead from cancer!"

"And I can't get better if you two are screaming at the top of your lungs!"

The two parents' head snapped towards the stairs, their youngest son standing there, glaring. "Are you two done?" he drawled, "Good, because I'm up here like a good kid attempting to do his homework, but I can't exactly do it with two people yelling about some idiotic thing. Alright, Mom, I get that demons are big part of our lives, but I rather live with hearing loss, which I might add I don't have yet, or a balance issue than being in a pine box six feet under when I'm fifteen. Dad, get Mom's perspective, I can't really defend myself if I'm too busy find my equilibrium, now can I? Got it? Now, you two, hug, make up and let me do my homework!" he shouted before turning around and heading back to his room.

Leo blinked and turned towards his wife, "I wonder where he got that from," he said with a smirk.

Piper rolled her eyes and turned around "I'm going to be in the kitchen, don't follow or I might accidently blow you up,"

* * *

Chris sighed and tapped his pencil against the desk, his brows furrowing as he attempted to figure out this illogical math problem. "X, can't you solve your own damn problems?" he mumbled.

A loud explosion made the young boy's head snap up, his body jumping from the seat. Quickly, he peered out of his bedroom door and saw Wyatt doing the same from across the hall. Soon, a loud expletive was heard from the boys' mother. "Demon attack, again?" Chris mumbled.

Wyatt sighed, "Let's go help."

The two boys trotted down the stairs to find five demons in the foyer. They were large and their tanned skin was tattooed with random symbols, and in their hands were long, silver athames. "Shit," swore Chris.

Wyatt lightly tapped his brother's shoulder, "Watch your mouth,"

Rolling his eyes, Chris waved his arm sending two of the demons crashing into the wall next to them. Beside him, Wyatt sent out an energy pulse that sent the last three tumbling to the ground. Growling, the demons stood and threw their blades at the brothers, making them dive to the ground to prevent getting cut. "That hurt," Chris grumbled as he trotted down the rest of the stairs crouched down, his older brother behind him. "Where's Mom?" he inquired.

Wyatt shrugged, "I heard her, I- there behind the couch," he stated, "She's unconscious."

"Damn it," Chris muttered, "Is she okay?"

"Dad's by her, he doesn't seem too worried," answer Wyatt with a shrug, "Let's just get these demons vanquished, I have physics homework that needs to be finished."

"And a mother to heal, you know, that too," Chris deadpanned, "Alright, on the count of three, we stand, I'll send them back you blow them up?"

"Sounds like our usual plan,"

"It usually works, that's why its our usual plan Wy," Chris answered, "Okay, one...two...three!" Abruptly, he stood and threw out his arms, hissing when one of the blades dug into his right bicep. Wyatt growled and quickly flicked his hands, blowing up three of the five demons, the other two shimmering at the last moment. A few seconds later, Chris found himself being held hostage while the other demon held a athame to his throat. "Get away from him," Wyatt hissed.

"Aw, the big brother not like when we play with little brother?" the demon that held him mocked.

"No, and little brother doesn't like to be held," Chris snapped, shooting his elbow into his holder's stomach, the man gasping. Chris gritted his teeth as he slipped through the man's arms, the blade nicking his chin as he did so. Seconds later, he could hear the demons' screams as they were vanquished.

Chris wobbled on his legs before deciding that sitting down was probably the safer choice. "Go heal Mom first, we don't know what's wrong with her," Chris softly ordered as he weakly pushed his brother away.

Wyatt sighed but did as he was told and padded his way to his mother, his hand coming to rest on the gash on the back of her head. Piper gasped as she shot up, "Where are they?"

"Vanquished," Wyatt answered before turning, "Shit! Chris!" he exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet and ran over to his brother. He stood over his brother's prone body, Chris's eyes were shut. Wyatt fell to his knees and he placed his hands over the cut on his arm, the wound deeper than he thought. "How?"

Leo cursed, "He can't clot, that's why he's lost so much blood already,"

"Why isn't he healing?" Wyatt asked frantically, his eyes wide.

Piper swore and stood up and grabbed the phone, "Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance, my son is bleeding out."


	4. Part Four

Piper sat on her bed, her hands clutching her son's picture tightly as her body shook with heartbreaking sobs. It was from a few years back, before her son was diagnosed with leukemia tat the age of fifteen. About a month after the diagnoses, her son was hit with a blade and began to bleed out right on the dining room floor. For some reason, the wound wouldn't heal it and Piper had to watch as her son was wheeled out on a gurney with a paramedic straddled over him performing CPR in an attempt to keep her son's heart beating.

With a shaky finger, Piper traced her son's smiling face, his sage green eyes sparkling with mirth and happiness. She sniffled and closed her eyes.

_She barged into the emergency center, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. Sprinting, she headed towards the information desk and demanded to be told where her youngest son was. She could feel Leo's hand on her back and Wyatt's presence behind her, but she didn't care about them right now, she just wanted to know if her baby was still alive. Tired eyes glanced up at her as the nurse typed in Chris's information, "They're still working on him,"_

_Three hours later, a blood-stained doctor called out their names and all three of them rushed towards him. The doctor ran a hand through his gray hair, "He's alive, barely, his leukemia proved to be a problem since his platelets were so low. He's in intensive care right now and as long as the cut stays closed, he should be fine,"_

Piper shook her head. They thought they were in the clear then. Well, they had to deal with the police fingerprinting and searching the whole house after Piper lied to them and said that Chris got the cut from a robber. After days of pleading that the man was wearing a ski-mask and that they didn't know what he looked like, the police backed off and Piper hoped that after two years that the file was cold and it would never be looked at again. But during that time, they had bigger things to worry about.

_Piper frowned and looked at the clock, it was nearly three in the afternoon and Chris still wasn't up. "Wy, go wake up your brother, he needs to eat something," Piper softly ordered._

_Wyatt nodded and quickly headed up the stairs, however seconds later, Piper was rushing up them when she heard her eldest call her. She gasped when she saw her youngest curled up in a ball in the middle of his bed, shivering. "Peanut?" she called as she gently shook him, "Wy, get me the phone,"_

_Wyatt quickly did as he was told and grabbed the wireless phone from the hallway. She speed-dialed Alderson, the main doctor for Chris's care with his leukemia, "Doctor Alderson, yes, I'm sorry to bother you, but Chris is experiencing cold sweats and isn't waking up." she rambled off._

_She frowned and nodded, "Alright, I'll call him now."_

_She hung up and speed-dialed another doctor, "Wyatt, wake him up," Piper stated before standing and begin to pace, "McConnal? Hi, yes this is Piper Halliwell, my son has been sleeping all day and when I sent my other son up to wake him, he was curled up shivering. Alderson suggested that we come and see if you can draw some blood, are you open?"_

_"Yes, of course," McConnal said, "Bring him in at once,"_

_Piper hung up and knelt by her sons, her youngest was barely lucid as Wyatt held him in his arms, "Hey Peanut, lets get you to the doctor's office,"_

_Chris mumbled something and went to stand up only to stumble. Wyatt caught his brother, "You okay?"_

_Chris had his eyes clenched, "Dizzy,"_

_Wyatt frowned and picked his brother up, the young man barely weight eighty-five pounds. "I'm not a baby," Chris weakly protested._

_"You weigh as much as one," Wyatt replied as Chris laid his head on Wyatt's shoulder, the younger brother closing his eyes._

_Gently, he placed Chris in the car before joining him in the backseat to support the weak man. He kept his eyes on his baby brother as Piper pulled out of the driveway, a frown on his face._

* * *

_"Chris's leukemia has progressed into the final stage," Alderson stated solemnly._

_Piper gasped, her eyes tearing up, her eyes flashing over the closed door behind her, "What does that mean?"_

_"We can try more aggressive treatments but," Alderson frowned, "at this stage, its not looking good Piper. Its as if the disease caught a second wind."_

_Piper shook her head, "He can't die!"_

_Alderson placed a comforting hand on Piper's arm, "We're going to try Piper, but at this point, I can' t guarantee anything."_

_In the matter of three weeks, Chris couldn't leave his bed. His weight had dropped to a mere seventy pounds and he slept most of the day away. His nausea has returned ten-fold, the only thing he could keep down being simple beef and chicken broth._

_"I'm done,"_

_Piper's hand froze midair, the spoonful of broth falling onto the quilt, "What?"_

_Chris looked at his mother with tired eyes, "I'm done."_

Piper let out a loud sob, her eyes clenching as tears slid down her eyes.

"Jeez, I haven't even gotten my diploma yet and you're crying?" a soft joking voice came from her threshold.

She chuckled lightly and set the picture frame a side. She wiped her eyes and looked up at her son.

Dark chocolate brown hair had grown back into its usually shaggy style and the weight he had lost has been managed to be put back on. Sage green eyes were sparkling behind black rimmed glasses - the chemo damaging the optical nerve slightly- and dressed in dark blue robes was her eighteen year old baby son ready to graduate from high school. He smiled and sat beside his mother, "Can you at least wait until I get my diploma before turning on the waterworks?"

Piper lightly smack her son's chest, "My last child is graduating high school, give me a break."

"Wy will be graduating college in three years, and then you'll have like two graduations for me," Chris joked.

Piper rolled her eyes, "Graduating high school."

"See you weren't specific," Chris lightly chided.

Piper sighed, "Is it sad that I just keep thinking that I thought you never would've made it here?"

Chris smirked, "Mom, I think everyone thought I was gonna die, hell, I thought I did. But, I didn't. I've been in remission for two years, and I take those stupid pills every morning, and I will continue to do so in college. I'm fine Mom. Now, come on, I would hate to be late to my own graduation."

Piper sniffled and nodded, "Hey, wait. Why are you going to have two graduations from college?"

"One from college and then one from med school."

"Med..school. You want to be a doctor?" Piper asked, a large smile on her face.

Chris shrugged, "An oncologist. Thought it fit for me,"

Piper hugged her son, "I think so as well."


End file.
